


Coffee and Consequences

by thedevianthunter



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Allen just wants to explain himself lmao, Awkwardness, F/M, Flashbacks, M/M, Misunderstandings, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 02:34:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17674784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevianthunter/pseuds/thedevianthunter
Summary: Working at the DPD after the Android Revolution is absolute hell, but realizing that the one-night stand that broke your heart is captain of the SWAT team is definitely the work of satan himself.





	Coffee and Consequences

Three hours of sleep.

No, wait. Two and a half. No, no, two.

You reach out to grab your mug, but your fingers grasp at thin air. You glance up and see that your mug is surprisingly  _not_  on the counter where you expected it to be. Blinking slowly, you walk over to the cupboards and notice that your precious mug is nowhere to be found, which means that someone else must’ve taken it. Detective Reed, you guess, because that fucker’s been trying to get on your nerves as of late. With a sigh, you opt for a different mug and head back to the coffee machine.

Your mug is already there.

 _Two hours_ , you conclude firmly.

You’ve only been working for the DPD for roughly two weeks and the place has already drained about eight years of your lifespan. The main reason for the sudden chaos in Detroit is the recent android uprising, something you're not surprised finally occurred. In fact, you’ve always been skeptical about CyberLife and its founder, Elijah Kamski, because you firmly believe that humans shouldn’t try to play God.

You were hardly surprised when the Android Demonstration finally occurred, and it was all you could do not to roll your eyes whenever you caught glimpse of Channel 16.

Ironically, the consequences of this peaceful revolution were what led to the DPD hiring you in the first place, and while you’re extremely grateful for the job, you can’t help but wonder why the local police suddenly feel as though more manpower is needed. Is Captain Fowler  _actually_  expecting a civil war?

Then again, now is not the time for analyzing the inner workings of the Detroit Police. You still have so much paperwork left to do and dozens of case files to look over. Even with two hours of sleep, you’re somehow behind on work and you can’t risk getting castigated by Fowler, especially since the man always seems to be on edge.

“There you are.”

Dazedly sipping your coffee, you offer Hank a half-hearted wave. “Good morning, Lieutenant.”

“Long night?” asks the older man, nodding his head in thanks when you hand him the unused mug you had grabbed earlier. You only shrug in response to his question, although the permanent bags underneath your eyes tell a different story.

You like Hank. He might  _look_  sloppy—you can’t forget the many times you’ve had to help Connor drag him home from Jimmy's after he'd gotten drunk to kingdom come—but he’s still one of the best the DPD has to offer. He’s sharp and he takes nobody’s bullshit, especially fuckin’ Reed’s.

Not to mention, Hank isn’t someone to tell you off for your bad habits. Maybe it’s because he knows that he’s not one to talk, or maybe he just expects you to know your own limits. Regardless, you appreciate that he doesn’t push you for more answers because the last thing you want to hear is someone nagging you for staying up late to catch up on work.

Of course, Connor is an entirely different story.

You know this because when the android enters the break room, the first thing out of his mouth is, “Good morning, Detective. You look exhausted.”

“No shit,” you yawn back, unbothered by his bluntness. For some reason, you find that you don’t take offense when Connor says something you’d normally fight someone else for. Likely it’s because you understand that he’s still learning how to be, well,  _human_ , and therefore lacks tact in most situations. Plus, the android is so damn cute you can’t help but let him get away with it.

As if on cue, Connor begins listing off possible ways for you to be more productive throughout the day so you can have enough time to get a full eight hours of sleep at night. Unfortunately, you aren’t an android, so you can’t just sit down and do work for several hours straight without taking a few breaks every now and then. Now if Reed joins you, these breaks tend to last more than double the time allotted because the man is always willing to make the drive to the local burger joint a few blocks away.

You zone out, mindlessly drinking your coffee while you try to listen to whatever it is Connor is saying about your physical wellbeing. Hank seems to be paying attention, at least, so you don’t feel too bad that you’re only half-assedly listening to the android.

As you stand there, mug against your lips, your eyes wander beyond the break room, where people have finally begun ambling in for work. You see that Detective Reed hasn’t arrived yet—you’ll make sure to give him shit for it if he makes a comment about Hank being late—and that, like yourself, Tina looks a little worse for wear.

What suddenly captures your attention is the group of SWAT members walking over to Captain Fowler’s office. It’s much too early for there to be a hostage situation of any kind, so you have no idea why the SWAT team is all geared up and ready to go.

Well…are you really all that surprised, though? An  _android revolution_  just happened. Anything goes in Detroit these days, it seems.

The break room is directly next to Fowler’s office, so you don’t have to venture far to investigate the unusual situation. There seems to be some sort of commotion going on in the holding cells, but again, that’s not something you don’t already see every day. You figure that the SWAT team has just brought in some hostiles and is now checking in with Fowler. Although, whoever the man currently standing across from the captain in his office doesn’t seem all that pleased.

“What’s going on?” Connor’s voice cuts into your thoughts, and only then do you tear your gaze away from the lively scene in front of you.

“Not sure,” you reply, glancing at him then at Hank, who’s finally drinking his coffee with an unbothered expression. Connor’s LED blinks several times before settling back to a steady light blue.

With a sigh, you take a long drag of your warm coffee and look up.

Immediately, you make eye-contact with the SWAT operative heading out of Fowler’s office and coffee shoots out of your mouth as you choke.

No.  _Fucking_. Way.

_“You know how to work your hands, huh?” you laugh breathlessly, eliciting a low chuckle from the gorgeous, shirtless man making quick work of removing your clothes. You grin as he eagerly attaches his mouth to your neck, his hands exploring your now-exposed torso. “Fuck…”_

_“Tell me what you want,” the man whispers into your ear. You feel your face burst into blames as his words practically turn you into goo, and you don’t want to know how fucking desperate you look right now underneath who you believe is the most_ attractive _guy you’ve ever met._

_“I want you to fuck me till I don’t remember my own name,” you growl back, throwing your arms around the man’s neck and pulling his surprised face to yours so you can firmly press your lips against his. He lets out a low moan when you bite his lower lip and the grip he has around your waist tightens._

“Detective? Detective! Are you alright?”

 _No_ , you think scathingly, wiping your dripping nose with your sleeve. You’ve never choked on coffee before, but fuck if it burns like hell. You hear someone laughing in the distance—no doubt Reed has just arrived—and feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. A quick glance up confirms that you’ve gotten the attention of everyone in the vicinity, and again your gaze falls onto Mystery Man from two weekends ago.

Your blush darkens when he raises an eyebrow at you. Feeling absolutely humiliated, you shove your almost empty mug into Connor’s hands before making a dash to the restroom.

_You honestly forgot his name, which isn’t surprising because you weren’t paying too much attention when he introduced himself in the first place. But how could you, when he looked like he’d walked out of your deepest fantasies, some of which you didn’t even know you had? You vaguely had a type, but you never actually thought the very epitome of it would approach you at the bar while you were out with your friends to celebrate your new job at the DPD._

_You didn’t think you had a chance with him so you admittedly weren’t trying to impress him when he’d joined you. Instead, you’d been extremely friendly, asking him if he wanted to take a shot with you since he seemed to be an “alright kinda guy”._

_He laughed at your words and agreed wholeheartedly. When he asked you if he could buy you another drink, you smiled and requested mozzarella sticks instead, which he ordered for you without hesitation. Of course you’d planned to share those with him anyway, so the second your order came, you grabbed a piping hot mozzarella stick and attempted to shove it into his mouth all the while swearing at the heat._

_He was doubled over in laughter the whole time._

_He said he’d never met someone like you in all his life, which you cheekily assured him was because human disasters weren’t made that often._

_The fond look he gave you practically sobered you up._

_Finally, after noticing marinara sauce on the corner of his lip, you immediately reached over to clean it up—with your mouth._

_And that’s how you end up bringing Mystery Man home._

_By the time the two of you end up on your bed, you’re already pretty sober and suddenly_ much _more nervous than you were at the bar. He senses this shift in demeanor and assures you that he’s a little nervous, too, as it’s been quite some time since he’s been with someone in this way._

_“Really?” you ask, sitting up so you can straddle him on the bed. His eyes rake up and down your body, burning this image of you on top of him into his mind. He shifts beneath you slightly and fights back a groan when your bottom presses against his groin._

_“What’s with that surprised look?” he questions breathlessly with raised eyebrows._

_“You’re fucking_ hot _,” you reply shamelessly, motioning to his very attractive, very kissable face. He looks somewhat embarrassed by your comment and rubs a hand down said face._

_“That’s nice of you to say.”_

_“It’s not nice, it’s honest,” you insist, before he suddenly grabs your arms and flips your positions, crouching above you with an intense look in his eyes._

The rest is history, they say, but you don’t remember history ever leaving you without so much as a note the next morning.

You spent an entire week mourning over Mystery Man and his mysterious ways. How could a guy just fall into your life,  _rock_  you to the core, then fucking vanish without a word? You’ve had your fair share of one-night-stands, but never had you clicked with someone the way you did with him.

Not to mention, you recall him asking you to a real the date before you’d fallen asleep, and you had enthusiastically  _agreed_. That morning, the last thing you expected to see was an empty bed but that was the sight that greeted you when you’d opened your eyes.

You haven’t set foot into a bar since then—let alone  _that_  particular bar—because you never wanted to see Mystery Man again.

 _All that work for nothing_ , you think dully, splashing cold water on your face. You briefly glare at the pitiful reflection of yourself in the mirror and then straighten up with a tired sigh. You give yourself a few light slaps on the face to get your shit together before hunching your shoulders and strolling out of the bathroom as though you didn’t almost have a breakdown over a man in there.

The moment you step outside, however, you hear Hank calling your name and you freeze.

“Get your ass over here!” he shouts from within the observation room. You’re really hoping that he’s in there alone or maybe with Connor, but when you enter the cramped space, you’re once again met with piercing blue eyes that a few weeks ago, stared you down while you were a hot, moaning mess.

You quickly glance away and look over to the one-way mirror. You see Detective Reed yelling at a disgruntled man, whose fists are clenched so tightly on the table that he can very well break his own hands.

“What did you need me for, Hank?” you ask after Reed suddenly slams his palms on the table, earning an annoyed glare from the suspect.

Hank glances at you then at Mystery Man, who you can tell is looking in your direction from your periphery. “Get me another coffee, will ya?”

You gape. Hank actually called you into an enclosed area with  _Mystery Man_  of all people, just to ask you to get him  _coffee_?“Seriously?”

“Yeah. We’ll be in here for a while. Get Captain Allen one, too, while you’re at it.”

“Who the fuck is that?” is out of your mouth before you can stop yourself, and you shut your eyes in realization when Hank smirks at you and nods over to Mystery Man.

“Him.”

Of  _fucking_  course.

With a final disbelieving look at your mentor, you spin on your heel and practically slam the door shut on your way out. Mystery Man, or better yet _, Captain Allen_ , probably thinks you’re a brat now but you don’t really care since he obviously doesn’t think  _much_  of you to begin with.

The hurt and humiliation from waking up alone and forgotten from  _that_  morning suddenly feels all too fresh. You’re honestly glad to be back in the break room, where you’re alone and can angrily wait for more coffee to brew in solitude. Once that’s done, you can deliver it to Hank and then pretend that Mystery Man never existed and life will be good again.

You feel a hand on your shoulder and look up.

So much for never existing.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you reply dully, turning back around to continue staring at the coffeemaker as though it just personally insulted your mother. Captain Allen shifts uncomfortably behind you and it takes everything in you not to glance back.

“Look, about that night—”

“Just forget about it,” you mutter, absolutely  _not_  in the mood to be confronting your ghosts this early in the morning, especially since this particular ghost has seen you naked.

“No, wait,” Allen insists, walking over to stand between you and the coffee machine. You glare up at him and can’t help the warmth that spreads to your cheeks when you notice his face is right there, right in front of you, in the same way that it was before you grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him for the first time.

He seems to be thinking along the same lines because you notice his eyes drift down to your lips.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts.  _No_. No, you’re not going to fall for this again.

“I’ll bring your coffee in a bit,  _Captain Allen_ ,” you say in the politest tone you can muster, gently moving past him to grab some mugs from the cupboard—for the third time that day. The man lets out a frustrated groan and before you know it, he’s yanking the mugs from your grip and placing it on the countertop. You begin to protest, but he suddenly shoves you against the counter and hauls you up for a brief but desperate kiss.

He pulls away as quickly as he swooped in and you can only gawk at him in shock.

“Now that I have your attention,” he begins pointedly, though the redness on his cheeks lets you know he’s as flustered as you are right now, “I just wanted to tell you that I didn’t mean to leave you without saying anything. I wouldn’t have left if it wasn’t an emergency, but…”

He motions to his gear, on which “SWAT” glows brightly in front of you. “I got a call and couldn’t stick around.”

“Oh…”

“I wanted to,” Allen sighs, a slight smile on his lips when he sees your gaze trained on him. “Believe me, I wouldn’t have left if I didn’t absolutely have to.”

Now that you think about it, the two of you failed to exchange contact information the night before, so there was no way he could have reached out to you. Not to mention, automated taxis these days use location services on your phone to detect where you are when you call, so he couldn’t have possibly known your address.

Even if he did, you suppose it would have been weird to suddenly show up unannounced on your doorstep, especially if he wasn’t completely sure that you wanted anything more than a one-night-stand in the first place.

“I went back to that bar last weekend, but you never showed up.”

Your eyes widen at his words. “What?”

“I was hoping I’d see you again so I could explain,” Allen admits sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck in mild embarrassment. “But you never came.”

“I didn’t want to… I thought…”

“Well, you thought wrong.” The SWAT captain grins at you and you finally find yourself grinning back. Your heart feels a lot lighter than it has the past few weeks. You may only be on two hours of sleep but you feel wide awake at that moment, standing less than a foot away from Captain Allen in the break room.

You want to say something but you’re not entirely sure what. That you’re happy? Relieved? Curious as to what this means for the two of you now?

As if reading your mind, Allen leans down to whisper in your ear. “So how about that date?”

When was the last time you’ve blushed this much in one day? You can’t remember. Then again, how often does the  _man of your dreams_  fall into your life for a  _second_  time? “Y-Yeah. Sounds good.”

Allen gives you a small peck on the cheek before pulling away. He grabs one of the mugs from the counter and hands you the other. “I don’t think Anderson actually needs coffee right now.”

“I don’t think so either,” you agree with a nod, accepting the mug to prepare yourself yet another serving of caffeine. The two of you stand there in comfortable silence, each holding a steaming mug of freshly brewed coffee. After a few minutes of just glancing at each other between sips like shy teenagers, Allen suddenly turns to you.

“You know, I didn’t think I fucked you hard enough to make you forget  _both_  our names,” he remarks with a handsome smirk, and of course you find yourself once again choking on the piping hot beverage. Allen almost drops his mug while trying to keep you from losing hold of your own as you double over in laughter, tears streaming down your face. Even after you straighten back up, you still can’t stop laughing, and it takes several minutes for you to calm down enough to input your contact information into a blushing Captain Allen’s phone.

**Author's Note:**

> I transferred this from tumblr in case anything happens haha. Out of all the fics I've written for Allen, this is my favorite (at least, plot-wise). It's also one of my first Allen fics because I published this way back in July when I first got into the fandom :D
> 
> I edited this fic a little but no major changes. You can only polish trash so much :)


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